I used to be better than this
by The Crownless Queen
Summary: You live your life like a long goodbye, until he comes in.


Written for Hogwarts' Writing Club: Character Appreciation - the Weasley twins, Item: Weasleys' Wildfire Whiz-Bangs, Amber's Attic: You are not weak just because your heart feels so heavy, Days of the Month: World Health Day - Write about a Healer, Lyric Alley: Full of pity now, but I don't know why, Ami's Audio Admirations: Twims - Plot Point: Write about twins.

Also for the Muggle History Assignment: Task 9 - Peggy Schuyler: Write about someone living in their sibling's shadow and the Auction Challenge: SeamusGeorge.

 _Word count:_ 1363

 _ **I used to be better than this**_

A year after the war, you find yourself dating Angelina.

And she is great — better than that even, better than you could ever deserve, with your broken heart and broken soul that you sometimes still feel breaking, even now, even after an entire year without Fred by your side.

Angelina is great, but she is not the one you want, just like _you_ are not the one she wants.

That would be _Fred_ , the one you still can't name without sobbing, the ghost that dogs your every step, the laughter that carries on the wind.

She wants Fred, not you, and you're the same. You know it, she knows it — perhaps everyone does.

It's why you got together in the first place: two broken people, barely more than kids (and they had insisted for so long that they weren't _children_ anymore, only to be proven wrong in the cruelest of ways) coming together because they hoped their broken edges would fit and make them feel whole again.

But life doesn't work like that.

 _Love_ doesn't work like that, and it was selfish of them to even try.

It could never have worked.

.

" _You breaking up with me, Weasley?"_

And for her, for Angelina, whose smart wit your brother had always admired, you can muster a smile. "Don't tell me you didn't see it coming," you reply.

Angelina chuckles. It sounds like glass scraping on stone, painful and broken. Her fingers twitch at her side, and you know she's craving a cigarette. "Oh, I did," she says, exhaling steadily. "But I still…"

"Hoped," George finishes for her.

"Yeah, _hoped_ ," she repeats, bittersweet.

.

Is it really standing in your brother's shadow, if your brother is dead and gone?

Is it, when your brother was your twin, when he looked just like you?

Is it, when you would willingly stay in that shadow forever and make it yours, mold it into your own until you can step out as _him_?

(You would give your life to change things, to make it so he had lived and you had died.)

.

You wander, for a while. You stay still, but you wander. It's like you're there but not there, and you can see how your family worries about you, how they're thinking ' _will he join Fred? will we lose him too?'_.

You hate yourself for the new lines on your mother's face, for the fear in your father's eyes — for the way your siblings tiptoe around you.

Fred wouldn't have needed this, you know. You're not fooling yourself into thinking he wouldn't have grieved for you, because you know that he would have, but out of the two of you, Fred had always been the one who was good with people.

He would have known how to heal instead of breaking.

(You're getting tired of breaking.)

.

Seamus comes into your shop on a Friday.

You don't know it then, but that's when your world starts again. That's when the colors start to seep back into your life, so slowly and sneakily that you won't notice them until it's too late to carve them out.

(You'll be glad then, because you would have tried, and maybe even succeeded if you had known earlier.)

But Seamus smiles as he greets you, compliments the place and buys half a dozen Weasley's Wildfire Whiz-Bangs.

You remember the hours you and Fred spent perfecting those, and your heart aches — but Seamus is smiling and chattering on and on about how he's going to use these to prank the asshole Healer who's in charge of his class' training, and you think that Fred would approve of this.

You think that's why you opened the shop in the first place.

Seamus pays, eventually, but he lingers. It's a slow day, so there aren't as many customers as there'd usually be, and you're able to stick around for a little while.

Verity, Merlin bless her soul, takes one look at you and orders you to take your break.

"Who's the boss here again?" you grumble back, even as you obey, and you only realize that it's the closest to your old self that you've been in months when surprise flashes in her eyes.

You pretend not to notice the grateful look she shoots at Seamus, and drag him into the backroom, where all of your half-hearted attempts at creating new products sit.

But to Seamus, they don't seem half-hearted, and it's hard not to care when he's so enthusiastic about everything.

By the time your break ends, you have half a dozen ideas for new prank items, and half of them Seamus has sworn to test on his unsuspecting boss.

"I'll see you around, George," Seamus says as he leaves. He's smiling, dark eyes bright and kind, and you almost smile back.

You watch him leave, and Verity watches you.

"What?" you ask, twitching.

She smiles like she knows something you don't. "Nothing. It's just… good to see you again."

You don't know what she means by that, and you just shrug. You don't feel any different than you usually do, there's no reason for her to behave this way.

But then again, you and Fred didn't exactly hire Verity because she was _normal_. She couldn't be, if she had any hope of working with you.

.

It hits you after a while.

Seamus hadn't mentioned Fred once.

You can't remember the last time someone looked at you and didn't see your brother staring back.

Did it even ever happen?

.

You meet Seamus again and again and again.

He comes to the shop every week, like clockwork. He wanders around the aisles, and sometimes he buys something for his boss or his coworkers — "I passed my exam!" he half-shouts proudly one day. "You're officially looking at _Healer_ Finnegan now." — but mostly he spends his time with you.

And then you meet him outside your shop too. In the Alley, sometimes, and it's always unplanned but you're always welcome. The man he's usually with — Dean, you think his name is — rolls his eyes at the both of you and always makes a quick exit when that happens.

(You ask Seamus why his friend doesn't stay once, and Seamus only chuckles nervously. He says something about Dean being shy and having errands to run, and it's clearly a lie, but you choose to let it go.)

You get ice-cream together every so often too, and sometimes you grab lunch together as well.

Seamus starts showing up at the shop around lunchtime to drag you out, and in retribution for that time Verity couldn't stop laughing at you all afternoon because of it, you come to St. Mungo's the next day and do the same.

And before you know it, two years have passed since Seamus first entered your shop, and you're sitting across from him, eating ice-cream and listening to a story about one of his patients as his thumb traces small circles on the back of your hand.

You freeze, spoon halfway to your mouth, and swallow nervously.

Seamus pauses. "What is it?" he asks, concern drawn on every line of his face — and your heart aches, but for once it's not about Fred or the things you've lost.

For once, it's about something else.

You look down at your hand, where Seamus' thumb is still tracing circles. "Are we… Are we dating?" you ask.

You used to be smoother than this, you think — or was that Fred again?

It doesn't matter.

Seamus' thumb still, a single point of warmth against your skin. "Oh," he says. You can see he almost wants to draw back, but you can't let him. You won't let him, and so you put your other hand atop his, lacing your fingers together.

Seamus exhales carefully. "I thought you knew," he says, and a laugh tears its way through your lungs.

It's the first time you've laughed in years, and you end up sobbing — but somehow, you don't think Seamus minds.

 _Dating_ , huh?

Might as well give it a try.


End file.
